They married. They had little asses. Jackass no longer visited the spring. He worked sun-up to sun-down to support his growing family.
“Some guys are born to be pussy-whipped,” observed Rooster.
Bull agreed. “We warned him. We told him.”
“Virgin or wife, I don't know which is worse,” crowed Rooster.
Billygoat, always the strategist, said, “Whatever happened to that trashed bucket?”
“What bucket?” asked Bull who had cognitive deficits in the areas of memory processing and data retrieval.
“His wife threw it away, what was left of it.” said Rooster. “Gone. Lost forever. A closed chapter.”
Billygoat smiled his whiskery smile. “My demon is good at finding lost treasures. I haven’t had a reason to call on Eligor in a long while. He owes me one.”
Billygoat used his cloven hoof to draw a triangle in the dust. Then he drew a circle that enclosed the three friends. “Don’t go outside that perimeter if you know what’s good for you,” he warned.
He rose up on his back legs and began chanting*:
I invoke, conjure, and command thee, O great Duke Eligor, and, fortified with the power of the Supreme Majesty, I exorcise and bind thee, to appear and shew thyself visibly before this circle, in fair and comely shape, to make rational answers to my questions, to uncover and reveal that which is lost. By Baralamensis, Baldachiensis, Paumachie, Apoloresedes, and the most potent Princes Genio, Liachide, Ministers of the Tartarean Seat, Chief Princes of the Seat of Apologia in the Ninth Region, come now before me!
Nothing happened, and Bull asked, “Do you really know all those guys?”
Billygoat continued his conjurations, calling monotonously on the seventy-two sacred names of God, until Rooster was grumbling and Bull was dozing – when suddenly a violent and foul wind rose all around the circle, lightening struck, and Duke Eligor stood in the triangle. He had the body of a splendid male lion. Attached to the neck were three heads – a viper, a monkey, and a tom-cat.
“That’s fair and comely?” protested Rooster.